


Not Over You

by StarlingHawke (Bowm8935)



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, post breakup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 09:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9228077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowm8935/pseuds/StarlingHawke
Summary: MC/Reader and Zen broke up a year before the next party was held and have avoided each other since. What happens when they run into each other at the party?





	

The hall is packed with people making the rounds, looking over what was left of V’s pictures and the paintings you’d worked so hard on the past year. The third party to occur since you joined the RFA is an incredible success, the guest count having increased yet again. As word had spread that V’s photography career was at an end and you’d started to become recognized for your own talent, people had started clamoring for an invitation to be able to purchase both. 

Snagging some champagne from a server that passes by, you bring the glass to your lips and take a sip, allowing the cool, bubbly liquid to pass over your tongue. You close your eyes and hum in approval as the flavor blooms across your taste buds. It is exquisite, a recommendation by Jumin; you have to admit that the man has great taste when it came to things like this. 

You smile at Yoosung as he strolls past, a beautiful young girl giggling on his shoulder that he’d met at school, tipping your head and receiving a cheerful wave in return. He’s grown so much in the past few years and you’re as proud of him as if he’s your little brother, watching and cheering as he turned his life around and started working hard on his studies. His hair’s back to its natural brown color but still long like before, and his signature clip is holding his bangs back even now when he’s wearing a suit. It’s adorable.

The temperature in the room is steadily climbing the longer the event goes on, and you find yourself uncomfortably warm even in your dress. Taking another sip of your drink, you debate the merits of escaping outside for a few minutes to cool down. A few more guests walk by, each of them greeting you warmly and commenting kindly on a few of the paintings they’d liked. You respond with an easy smile and politely thank them, bowing your head humbly until they walk away.

Tucking your hair behind your ear, you let out a small puff of air and glance over at the beautiful glass doors that lead to a small balcony. Yes, it would be nice to step outside, if only for a moment. It would not only help cool you down, but also give you a brief reprieve from the commotion to allow you to organize your thoughts. Discarding of your champagne flute when another server passes, you make your decision.

Catching Jaehee’s eye, you motion toward the doorway and she nods at you before returning to the conversation she’s having with Jumin and a couple of representatives from a charity focused on helping street cats; the strained smile on her face tells you just how much she’s enjoying it. Jumin, on the other hand, is much more animated than normal, the ghost of a smile on his face as he listens intently to what’s being said. You can almost see the cogs turning in his head, coming up with different ideas on how to incorporate them into some future project involving cats through C&R. 

Poor Jaehee.

With a sigh you turn, the clicking of your heels barely able to be heard over the din of the crowd as you make your way toward the door. It’s not far and your hand is on the golden handle before long, stepping through and pulling it shut with a quiet _snick_. Upon turning around, your eyes fall on a familiar head of pure white, his long hair tied at the base of his neck and tumbling majestically down his back. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you chew on it, debating whether or not you want to proceed. However, the soft noise of the door closing must have alerted him to your presence and he turns around, his eyes widening just a fraction in surprise before he composes himself. Most people would miss it, but you know him well enough to have caught the small peek at his true feelings. In less than a second, he slips into the Zen that the public knows; happy, flirty, outspoken. His trademark smile crosses his face and he leans on the rail of the balcony, his posture relaxed as he gazes at you. 

You have to appreciate that he’s improved in his acting over the years; he had been amazing when you first met him, but the time he puts into practicing shows because now he is phenomenal. Had he not slipped up for a second, he might have actually been able to fool you into thinking he was unfazed by your presence.

He says your name cheerfully, beckoning you over to stand next to him. At this point it will be rude if you are to back out, and you certainly don’t want to further rupture the precarious relationship you two have. After what had been a rather rocky break-up, you find it hard to be near him; you both had said some horrible things to each other, and some of the pain wells up inside of you whenever you think of him. But that’s not all of it, of course; there’s also the longing, the love, the desire to still be his. You’d never been in love before him, and he had captured your heart without even trying, pulling you under his spell so thoroughly that you still get dizzy when near him.

There it is; the tiniest bit of hurt flashes in his eyes before disappearing, and he drops the arm that he’s using to motion to you. Guilt floods your system and you let out a sigh, hands smoothing out the skirt on your dress before you slowly take one step forward, then another, then another until you’re next to him. Your heart is beating fast at the proximity and you grasp the railing, hoping that you can hide the nerves you’re feeling from him. Nearly a year later and his effect on you hasn’t diminished; damnit, what gives him the right to be so intoxicating?

“Are you okay?” Where there normally would’ve been a “babe” or a “princess” there’s nothing, further proof of the divide between you two. He does nothing to hide the concern in his voice and you chew the inside of your cheek, knowing that you must be failing at hiding your apprehension. “You don’t look so well.”

Still, you nod and force a smile at him, not meeting his eyes. “I’m fine, Zen. Just… tired. It’s been a long night.” It’s not exactly a lie; your energy is starting to wane, although it’s certainly not the full truth, and the way he tenses slightly tells you that he knows. Thankfully he doesn’t call you out but instead chooses to play along.

He lets out a slow breath and looks away, his eyes falling over the bright lights of the city. “It has been a busy night, hasn’t it? It’s all because of you, you know.” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, feeling your mouth fall open just the tiniest bit as you try to work out what he means by that. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye and chuckles. “Don’t tell me that you don’t know?” At your clueless look, he sighs, running a hand through his hair and turning back to face you. He gives you another smile, but this one shifts into something more familiar; softer, less showy and full of fondness. It’s unexpected and you’re taken aback, your heart fluttering in your chest. 

“They’re all here because of you. Because of how you talk to each and every person like they’re the most important person in the world, and the care and attentiveness you put toward everything in your life. Because of your art; the way you manage to capture the raw beauty in everything you paint is such a rare talent, and they’re eager to get their hands on it. What, don’t believe me?” You are shaking your head when he asks the question, and he chuckles, pointing a finger at the door. “I was looking at it myself and was witness to the way a lot of the guests were behaving. It’s an active bidding warzone in there; I’ll be surprised if we don’t at least double our goal. And that’s not to mention the most important reason that this is all because of you.” He steps a little closer, reaching out and brushing your hair that has fallen forward behind your ear, his touch light and careful, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Is it just you, or do his fingers linger just a little longer than necessary at the base of your ear? “If you hadn’t joined the RFA, we’d never have been able to hold parties like this again. It’s all because of you, babe.” 

When did he get so close? His fingers leave your ear and trail along your jaw and you shiver, your heart drumming a beat so loud that you’re certain he can hear it. His thumb rubs gently against your bottom lip and your breath hitches in your throat, taking in his intense gaze and the unguarded emotion on his face. Is this really happening? 

“Z-Zen…” you say quietly and he abruptly withdraws, stepping back and letting his hand fall limply to his side. You feel the loss of the heat that came from him being so close and your body slumps a little, the hope that had been building inside of you crushed in an instant. How could you even think that he might still love you?

He’s running his hands through his hair now, his mask back on but the action is enough to let you know that he’s distressed. One hand can mean several things; embarrassment, frustration, joy. But when he uses both… that’s distress. He’s upset about something. 

“I’m sorry.” You tilt your head to the side as you look at him, his eyes downcast and his body rigid. “That… was wildly inappropriate of me.” 

The snort is out before you even process what you’re doing, indignation rising up within your chest. You’re already frustrated that it’s been a year and you’re still in love with him; must he toy with your emotions like this? “Gee, you think?” Your tone is cold, and you see him flinch a little at it. Good. “This is the first time we’ve seen each other since… then… and you… you think this is a good way to treat me?” You’re trembling in your anger, hands fisted at your sides as you fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. “What I don’t get is _why._ You’ve made it plenty obvious that you’re over me, that you’ve moved on. So why toy with me like this?” A tear manages to squeeze out, and that opens the floodgates to have them flowing down your cheeks like a river, and you bring up a hand to angrily wipe at them.

His head snaps up to look you, horror crossing his face at the sight of you crying. “Aaargh!” The frustrated noise echoes in the night, hands moving down to be shoved into the pockets of his white dress jacket. “I didn’t mean… I just… don’t cry, please? I wasn’t trying to toy with you, I swear! I’m not like that, you know that I’m not!” 

You turn your head to look away from him, ignoring the small whine that tears from his throat at the action. The Zen you loved would never have toyed with yours or anyone’s emotions, that’s the truth. This man in front of you? Him you couldn’t be so sure about. 

He calls out your name and you can hear the panic in his voice, the pleading buried in that one word. It’s familiarly agonizing, reminding you all too well of the fight that ended you two in the first place. “Okay, so maybe I lied!” Your head snaps back to look at him, your eyebrows knitting together and your lips turning into a tense frown, watching as he starts to pace. “Maybe I’m not over you! Maybe I still have feelings… stupid, stupid, uncontrollable feelings!” Eyes widening, your heart skips a beat as you process his words. You inhale sharply when he looks over at you, the breath catching on a sob and causing you to cough. He freezes and you can tell he’s restraining himself from moving; maybe to keep from coming to you?

“I’ve avoided being around you for so long, hoping that by putting you out of my mind that I could move on, but I can’t! I just. Can’t. You’re still the first thing I think of when I wake up in the mornings and the last thing at night; I still dream of you and want nothing more than to kiss you crazy again.” He’s back to pacing, and you’re surprised to see the beginnings of tears in his eyes as well. You dare a glance back at the door; how long would you two remain uninterrupted? “I knew tonight was going to be difficult, but I managed to keep distance between us until now. I was worried that if I was in close proximity to you, I wouldn’t be able to control myself, and I was right. I’m sorry, okay? But don’t think that I’m trying to play with you, because I’m not. I promise… the last thing I want to do is to hurt you again.” His voice cracks at the end and you can see all of his regret and self-loathing laid out on his face clearly as he looks at you, the tears now flowing freely. 

The silence between you is deafening, the only noises the little sniffles from you and the brush of fabric against fabric when he reaches up to wipe at his eyes. You’re feeling a little off-kilter, like your whole world has just been turned upside down - and perhaps, emotionally, it has. What you’d thought was the truth was not… 

“Well, what makes you think that I don’t feel the same way?” It’s a whisper, so quiet that you’re not sure he’ll hear. He must, because his mouth falls open just the tiniest bit and he stares at you, searching your face. What ever he is looking for he must find, because he closes the distance between you two in a manner of seconds and you’re pulled into a tight embrace, your face against his chest and his nose buried in your hair. His smell and the warmth are comforting and familiar, and you wrap your arms around his waist and shut your eyes tightly, praying to whoever is listening that this isn’t a dream. You’re not sure you could take it if this isn’t real.

You stay like that for a while until both of you regain some essence of your composure. When he releases you, he takes half of a step back, bringing one hand under your chin and tilting your face up so that your eyes meet his. “I still love you,” he says in a rough voice, a sad smile on his face. His eyes dart between yours, a deep sincerity in them. You bite your lip, words escaping you as you just look up at him, your body starting to tremble again, though this time it’s not from suppressed emotion

It doesn’t take long for him to pick up on it, and he immediately whips off his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders and using it to tug you back against him. “Let’s head back inside; I don’t want you to catch a cold, babe.” He starts to lead you toward to the door but you stop him, prompting a rather confused look to be directed down at you. Steeling yourself, you go up on your tiptoes, looking at him meaningfully as you tilt your chin up. He’s always been so much taller than you; there’s no way for you to go 100% of the way.

There’s an audible gasp from your action and you see the look of disbelief mixing with desire on his face before he leans down, pressing his lips gently against yours. This time you can feel _his_ body trembling and you know why; always the gentlemen, holding himself back from the rush of emotion surging through him that probably want him to be rougher, to do more. But this, this is a soft and hesitant kiss, and the feel of his lips against yours brings you such joy. You thought you’d lost this.

When you both pull back, a smile flits across his face, happy and hopeful. A hand lands on your cheek and you lean into it, turning to nuzzle against it slightly. You hear his breath catch in his throat before he chuckles lowly, pulling you back into him. “Let’s get you back inside, princess.”

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Did you love it? Did you... *gasp* hate it? Let me know! I'm always open for reviews, comments and helpful criticism.  
> I'm here to grow. :)
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr as [cutiesaeran](http://cutiesaeran.tumblr.com/) or twitter [@MysticHawke](https://twitter.com/MysticHawke/)!


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